The Red Shoes Revisited
by shadowycat
Summary: The Big Bad Wolf finds a lovely pair of red shoes in the forest. What to do, what to do?


**The Red Shoes – Revisited**

A stray breeze blew through the old forest, lifting dead leaves from the ground and carrying them away, revealing what had remained safely hidden beneath for a long time. A large gray wolf, busily making his way through the trees, noticed an unfamiliar spot of color and, being the curious sort, paused on his way to wherever he was going to brush aside the remaining leaves and uncover a pair of bright red shoes.

"Hmmm…what pretty little shoes." The wolf looked thoughtfully at his discovery and reached down a paw, intending to pick them up. "I wonder how they got out here in the middle of the woods?" he asked himself, naturally not expecting an answer and so was quite surprised when he received one.

"I wouldn't touch those shoes if I were you. They're cursed," came a scratchy, raspy sort of voice from behind him.

The wolf straightened up abruptly and glanced around the clearing. "Who's there?" he asked suspiciously.

A small man with a straggly beard and a pointed red cap stepped out from beneath an overhanging tree branch and walked over to stand next to the wolf.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" exclaimed the wolf. You never knew who might be lurking around in the forest.

"What makes you think that's my name?" the little man asked sourly.

"Please," said the wolf. "Everyone knows your name. That miller's daughter was a real blabbermouth."

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me." The man shoved his hands into his pockets and looked annoyed. "Can't use the name scam on anyone anymore. I really should sue for damages. About the only thing I can still get away with is betting that they can't spell it correctly, but it just isn't the same…especially since there are variants in the spelling. Some people use an "s" while others favor the "z". Both spellings can be backed up with print versions of the damned story so it can be a pain if I pick the wrong mark to try it on. Ah, well…everyone's got their problems, I guess."

Privately, the wolf thought that the small man had gotten what he deserved. After all, when you have a secret that's worth a lot to you, dancing around a fire and announcing it to anyone within hearing range isn't exactly the smart thing to do, but he refrained from pointing that out since the man seemed to know something about the shoes he'd found, and he didn't want to make him vanish in a puff of smoke before he'd satisfied the wolf's curiosity.

The wolf nodded in commiseration. "Times are tough," he agreed readily. "So…what do you know about these shoes? You mentioned a curse?"

"Yeah. Pretty nasty one, too."

The wolf examined the shoes more closely, poking a claw inside. "Eww! There are foot bones still inside them. Is that the curse? Does it make your feet fall off?"

The little man folded his arms and shook his head. "No, but you wish they would. The last person to wear them asked to have her feet chopped off so that the shoes wouldn't dance her to death. Once these suckers get started, there's no stopping them. I think it's some sort of divine punishment for the frivolous. Be sober and diligent and god fearing or you'll be sorry, apparently. Fun is a no-no wherever these things came from."

"Where did they come from?" asked the wolf curiously.

"Not sure," said Rumpelstiltskin with a shrug.

The wolf picked up the shoes and emptied the bones out of them, admiring their bright red color in the lone shaft of sunlight that filtered down through the forest canopy.

"People do tend to associate the color red with frivolity and shamelessness," he said. "Which always made me wonder why everyone was so quick to assume that Red Riding Hood was so damned sweet and innocent. I've always said she dresses like a hussy."

"Yup, people are contrary," agreed Rumpelstiltskin readily.

"Maybe the red fairy could make use of them," said the wolf. "She could probably take the curse off them, and they'd match her gown quite nicely."

"I'd rather she gave them to her sister the blue fairy and left the curse intact," grumbled Rumpelstiltskin. "She's the one that blabbed my story all over creation and made things so dad gum difficult."

"Yeah," muttered the wolf, "I'm not too keen on her either. You know, these remind me of those magic shoes that the Wicked Witch of the East was so proud of. Didn't someone drop a house on her? Maybe that's how that dancing girl ended up with them?"

"Naw. Those were silver."

"Are you sure?" asked the wolf. "Because I could have sworn they were red."

The dwarf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I'm sure they were silver, but maybe it's another one of those annoying story variants that crop up from time to time. My own story isn't a model of consistency. Usually I just vanish angrily in a puff of smoke, never to be seen again, but sometimes I apparently get so angry that I tear myself in half, if you can believe that."

"Really? That does sound painful." The wolf winced.

"Sounds damned stupid to me," muttered the dwarf, rubbing his stomach unconsciously.

The wolf turned back to the shoes. "Yeah, I know what you mean, my stories aren't always a model of consistency either. Gives me a headache trying to keep it all straight."

"Well, I've got to be going," exclaimed Rumpelstiltskin amiably. "I need to get back to Vegas, after a few hours of staring at those slot machines and swilling those drinks with the paper umbrellas, most people can't spell their own names never mind mine. Town's full of easy marks just waiting to be plucked. Be careful with those shoes now. I'd hate to see you end up dancing through the forest without being able to stop." With a final wave, the dwarf vanished in a puff of gray smoke.

The wolf watched him go and then looked back down at the pretty red shoes, glistening innocently in the sunshine. "That would be a shame, now wouldn't it…" he murmured softly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The perky blonde girl tore open the box, scattering tissue paper everywhere and pulled out a pair of shiny red shoes with a squeal of delight. "Oh, how lovely! And they'll match my cape so perfectly! I wonder who sent them?"

She rustled around in the wrappings until she found a card which read: _To Red From Your Dear Old Granny_.

Red Riding Hood clapped her hands merrily. "Oh, how marvelous. I'll have to put them on and run right over to show her how perfect they are," she exclaimed happily. Without a second's pause, Red kicked off her dull black slippers and slipped the pretty red shoes onto her feet.


End file.
